


Eris finds his mate

by sarah_bae_maas



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 23:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16963623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_bae_maas/pseuds/sarah_bae_maas
Summary: Originally posted April 10th, 2018





	Eris finds his mate

The first time he saw her he didn’t really see her at all.

He was walking – escaping – and in the deepest crevices of the Forest House he heard the most wonderful, melodic voice. It was a language he was unfamiliar with, but he needn’t understand her words for the music to reach into his soul, pulling him in her direction. He walked through branches, slashing his sword through them and marching toward the sound. He was nearing her when it stopped, and unable to find a single soul around he had to give up his search.

But every day, every Cauldron damned day, he went back, hoping to hear her sing again.

Since that day, he’d dreamt of the voice and the face that might be behind it.

A week later the voice in his dreams became a reality.

At first, he narrowed it down to a building.

The homes in the Autumn Court were not like the ones he’d seen in the city of the Night Court. They didn’t go up, they weren’t clumped together, but instead they fanned out. Rarely this far out of the centre were they multiple storeys. This particular building was a share home in an immigrant-heavy area. After the collapse of the wall, fae from other realms had decided to come to Prythian and see what they could make of it. It did wonders for the economies of the courts, and also offered fresh life after so many were lost in the war. There were more children than ever, more stories and tales and money going into local businesses. Trade was at an all-time high, and it meant Prythian was in an age of buzzing.

That explained the foreign language he had heard.

He had followed it again, excitement starting to creep up in him as he came closer to the face behind the voice.

And then it was gone.

He would have asked around, but his presence was clearly putting people on edge, and that’s not what he wanted. He didn’t know how he would ever combat the fear people felt when they saw the son of High Lord Beron, but he would find a way. Hopefully.

But despite the anxiety in the air, still every day he returned, and every day he got closer to the faceless fae that now haunted his dreams permanently.  

The first time he saw her face he was dumbstruck.

She was sitting on a windowsill, her wild brown hair spilling around her shoulders and children swarming at her feet as she sung them epic tales. Her skin was a beautiful brown and her delicate hands ebbed and flowed around her to the sway of her tunes.

Like the children, Eris had gaped at her wide-eyed and in awe. When she had finished, he’d planned on approaching her. But she’d climbed back into the house and had only come back to present sweets to the children before slamming the windows shut and sequestering herself away.

The next time he came back, he dressed as a low ranked sentry. He didn’t like standing out, and his red hair was common enough that people didn’t even glance at him as he stood to listen to her once more. And that _voice_. Oh Mother please rest his beating heart. The tendrils of it wove their way into his very being, his existence, and he wondered if he’d ever really heard anything before he’d stumbled across this.

He did not approach her. But still, day after day, he came back to watch her sing for the children.

After over a month of such behaviour, when he’d already turned to leave, she called out, “Are you ever going to talk to me, solider? Or just stand there gawking?”

This had been the first time he’d ever heard her speak, and by the Cauldron it was just as beautiful as her singing.  

“I didn’t realise you knew I was here.”

“A handsome stranger in my midst? How could I have not known?” She smiled then, not at him, but to herself.

It gave him the courage to come closer, to step in front of her and present himself. “My name is Eris.”

“Well hello there Eris. My name is Juliette. Would you mind lending me your arm?”

He raised his eyebrows and did as she asked, presenting his arm for her like any gentleman would. When she did not take it, he asked if he’d misinterpreted her. She laughed lightly, the sound music in and of itself.

She’d held out her hand. “Would you mind helping me climb out of this window? I’m quite blind.”

“How blind is quite blind?”

“As blind as one can be.” She didn’t say it in a bitter way, but in a tone one uses when stating a simple fact. It was neither here nor there.

He’d helped her out of the window and linked their arms.

“I’ll take you to my favourite little café, Eris. I know this area like I know my heart.”

“It would be a joy, milady.”

A blush rose on her high cheeks, and in return one spread across his.

“Eris, has anyone ever told you that you share a name with the High Lord’s eldest son? How funny is that.”

Eris knew after that day that she was his mate, and that even if she wasn’t he would have easily fallen in love with her. It became a routine, he would hear her sing, applaud, help her out the window, and then together they would find some food to devour. She became his best friend, his most trusted confidant, even though neither of them had acknowledged their mateship. He didn’t know if she felt it yet, but that was okay with him.

“It was difficult to come here,” she admitted once, “and although my sight does make it harder, it doesn’t mean I’m any less adventurous.”

“I have never met a blind fae before.”

“I wasn’t always blind. As a child I could see, but by the time I was ninety I could only see the faintest of shapes. Now it is nothing.”

“You have more strength in you than I ever could – to brave travelling to a new land…”

“I had an inkling something special might be found for me here. And would you look at that, here you are.” She knocked her shoulders on his as they walked with their elbows linked. “My magic has also helped me a lot. I know who to trust to help me.”

“How so?”

“I can sense souls. Motivations. Emotions.” She reached out her hand and placed it over his heart. “You are a kind man, my Eris. I see you for exactly what you are.”

“I will disappoint you,” he had told her, voice grave

She’d moved into his arms, resting her head on his broad chest. “I don’t think you can.”

That night, he had kissed her for the first time. He was so unsure of it, he had no idea what signs to look for, but her grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into her bedroom with a purred _are you ever going to kiss me, solider? Or just stand there gawking?_ definitely clued him into to what she wanted.

He had done more than kiss her that night.  

When they awoke, he had gotten them breakfast from her favourite café. He then ate it from her naked body. When he had finally left her, the brightest and happiest he had ever been, he winnowed to the Night Court to call in an old deal he made with the High Lord. It was time for his brutal father to die, and it had to happen before he caught wind of Juliette. Her safety was more important to anything, and as friends she might have been safe, but she was now much, much more than that.

It had been too late.

Eight days after that Juliette had been seized by Beron, and only an hour later the bastard was dead for what he tried to do to her.

Juliette had been hysterical, never in her life had she felt such fear. Her body was covered in bruises and blood, and worse, her magic had been overloaded by savagery and hatred causing her to nearly burn out. She’d sequestered herself away for days in her home afterwards, not speaking to Eris at all. He kept a constant, armed guard around her home, needing to know that she was safe. And every morning, every afternoon and every night he stood outside her window and begged for her forgiveness. When that didn’t work, he sang her songs. His voice wasn’t lovely like hers, but he knew every word she’d ever said, even if he was butchering her language.

On his third rendition of one of her epics, she opened the window and leant out.

“You know the words to my songs.”

“Every single one.”

She’d walked away from him.

His shoulders slumped slightly, and he was about to walk away for the night when he heard her call, “Are you ever going to come in, solider? Or just stand there gawking?”

He’d never so eagerly done something in his life.

They had spoken for the whole night about the events that had transpired. She’d let him hold her as she cried. And when he had admitted to a horrible feeling inside him that he couldn’t shake, the knowledge of knowing he had killed his kin, and how disgusting it made him feel, she listened. Because _of course_ he had to die – he would do it again in a heartbeat – he just didn’t understand why discontent was still bubbling away in him. It made him feel disloyal to her.

She was so wise and explained to him why his grief was completely normal and how he needn’t feel guilty. She sat in his lap and embraced him, whispering that she would mourn the late High Lord with him – because they weren’t really grieving for a person, they were grieving for an unattainable what-if.

What if Beron had accepted them?

What if Beron hadn’t been an abusive son of a bitch his whole life?

What if Beron’s approval never meant anything?

Any questions Eris ever had, she could answer in a heartbeat.

Not long after that she moved to the castle to be with him. It right around the time of his official ascension.  It didn’t take her long to memorize her way around, but she also welcomed the two guards that were often at her side. She got along with them well, and the three made for some good jokes and banter. She always made friends quickly, but that came at no surprise. Who would be foolish enough not to have her in their company?

“I have an idea,” he had proposed to her over breakfast.

“Yes, my love?”

“How would you feel about being High Lady?”

She’d spat her tea on him in shock.

Her High Lady ceremony was done at the same time as their mating, much to Eris’ displeasure. He wanted her to have the whole day just to celebrate for herself. Festivities had gone on for weeks throughout the land at the announcement of the Autumn Court’s first High Lady, and he didn’t want to intrude on her special day. She had laughed, assuring him that she wouldn’t have organised it so if she didn’t want it whole-heartedly. And who was he to argue?

His baby brother Lucien had given them a gift so extravagant Eris wasn’t sure Juliette would want it.

A friend of his, the one who had constructed Lucien’s magical eye, had offered to make one for Juliette.

The light of their bedroom fire warmed their bodies as he held her close, letting her think aloud to him. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I am – absolutely nothing. I don’t want to imply to anyone that something is by taking this gift. But oh, what a gift it would be to see again. It’s been centuries though, and I’m so accustomed to the darkness. But I would see the Autumn Court the way you do. I would get to see _you_. And see our _children_. But I already know your body as well as I know my own. Except your eyes, I would love to see your eyes. But that would mean letting someone I don’t know wiggle around in my head. What do you think?”

“I agree with whatever you want.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“I agree with you because I know that ultimately you’ll make the decision you’re most comfortable with, and all I want is for you to be happy here. Happy as my High Lady.”

“Eris?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I want to see you.”

The first time she’d opened her new eyes she had squinted for five minutes, covering her face with her hand. It had been awfully bright for her, and the engineer who had made them had to show her how to fiddle with the eye’s controls. Lucien, having been through the experience himself, talked her through it and was surprisingly supportive.

Eris caught her intently staring at things a lot, mostly herself in whatever reflection she could find. She would be smoothing back her hair, running her hands down her bodice, adjusting her clothing. “I don’t look quite as I remember,” she’d whispered the first time he’d caught her. Whenever she did this, he would stand next to her with a hand on her waist. He never needed to say words, his feelings flowing freely to her through the bond. The sight of them together, the proof they would have a life intertwined, was enough to make her calm.

Only once was her conviction of High Lady shaken. He was in his grand study, pouring over documents and reports and his eyelids were drooping in exhaustion. She’d come into the room, and he knew instantly that something was wrong. Before he’d even asked, she questioned if she was stupid. His no was an indignant one, and she sighed and agreed.

“I don’t know if I can be High Lady.”

“Why would you say that? You’re doing a perfect job.”

“Eris,” she’d said his name in shame, as if scared to let him down. “I’m illiterate.”

“But I’ve seen you read books.”

“Yes, books in my first language. I can speak this one, but I have no idea how to read it. I thought the alphabet would be the same, but I don’t recognize any of these symbols.” She looked on the verge of tears. “I feel so stupid, but I know that I’m not.”

His heart had broken for her, and the next day he approached one of the old and yet kind tutors and asked for her help. He sat with her in every lesson until she was comfortable, and when she was more confident he left her be. Sometimes, she would still doubt herself, but never for long. He would reassure her well into the night, with his words and with his tongue, until she knew exactly how much she was worth.  

She then started one of the things she enjoyed most in life – sparring. Weapons, fists, you name it and she wanted to do it. Any training she could get she welcomed. She had a thirst for knowledge that he’d never seen in a person – a way of living life to its fullest that made Eris realise that even though he felt at home in the Autumn Court, he never truly took advantage of all the wonders it had to offer. She showed him, and along the way she healed every cut caused by his father’s words, every bruise from his mother’s favouritism, every broken bone from harsh rumours and expectations.

He had never been so happy – and he finally understood what it meant to be so.

The first time he thought it was going to be torn away from him was when the leading women of Prythian decided to all meet at the Night Court, so they could be well acquainted with each other now that women were starting to gain more rights and privileges that they all should have had in the first place.

Juliette went, always excited to meet new friends and have new experiences, but when she came back she was different. She’d surprised him in their room, and he had beamed at her before picking her up and twirling her around in a hug, absolutely thrilled to see her. Every moment away from her had been harder than the last, and to have her back home was like a weight off his chest.

When he’d went to kiss her, she’d flinched away. He let go of her immediately and backed up, apologizing quietly as he did.

She had never flinched from him before.

“The ladies had a lot to say about you. Nearly all of them in private asked if I needed help escaping.”

He stayed quiet.

“The things they said about you, the stories they told… There was one woman, Morrigan, I could feel that what she said was true, that she was pure, and she said the ghastliest things.”

His breathing became uneven, and he backed further away from her accusing, metal eyes.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me the stories of your savagery aren’t true. Tell me you didn’t let your betrothed rot in a forest just because she wasn’t a virgin.”

The ache he felt at her words was a feeling he was familiar with. It was the same ache he got when his mother inched away from him, believing him to be as feral as his brothers. It was the same ache he got when Lucien refused to acknowledge that they were family. It was the same ache he got when the other High Lords and Ladies looked at him with pure disgust on their faces.

He’d swallowed hard, and couldn’t meet her gaze, scared that she would see the silver pooling in his eyes.

“Answer me, Eris.”

“I can’t – I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me the truth – all of it. Because I still feel you, unchanged from when we first met. You are _good_. I know you are. So how, why, would these women say such things? Are they lying to me?”

“No.”

“Then you truly behaved in such a way.”

“ _No_.”

“Eris you need to stop being cryptic right now and tell me the Cauldron damned truth because I can’t spend another minute in the company of a man that I don’t really know.”  

He hadn’t known how to explain the truth to her – how he had to sacrifice everything just so one day there might be hope for something better. That every decision he made came hand in hand with a beating from his father. That every choice, every despicable thing he had done was the best of many bad options, and that every time someone flinched back in horror or fear of him a little part of his soul died.

She had brought him back to life.

And she had flinched away from him.

“I don’t know what to say to make you – to make you stay.”

“Tell me the truth.”

So, he did. He’d stood there for hours, pacing back and forth in front of her telling her every gritty, bloody moment from his life. He couldn’t look at her as he did, and his stories were fast and stuttered, his hands ringing in front of him the whole time. He cried, and he’d tried to hide it. The whole time his heart was pounding hard and fast, and the thought of _she’s going to leave you_ was a constant pounding in his mind.

When he’d finished, she was silent. She’d approached him and put her hands on his cheeks. _“You.”_ She edged herself closer to him, their chests just touching. “You are the strongest, bravest, most selfless person I’ve ever known. I knew you were a kind man, my Eris, and you have not disappointed me.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you.” She kissed his jaw. “You are exactly who I thought you were.” She kissed his neck. “Are you ever going to forgive me, solider? I doubted you, and you have never had anything but faith in me.”

There was nothing to forgive.

At one of the quarterly meetings with the High Lords and Ladies, the Illyrian Azriel had given him a somewhat filthy look. Eris was accustomed to it, it wasn’t something to even note, especially coming from the Night Court. That night Juliette cornered Azriel and yelled at him for his ignorance and pig-headedness, poking him in the chest as she hissed that he was a good soul who was being very, very self-centred. Eris had only heard the exchange because he was about to round the corner and stopped to eavesdrop.

“Tell me this Azriel, what did people think of your High Lord? How much did they despise your brother, and justifiably so? You have lived through the hardships that come with that, so how _dare_ you consider yourself to be the only court with a misunderstood leader.”

He had smirked to himself and walked away. She did not need his help, and Azriel was in for it. About time he was taken down a few pegs.

Just as with every relationship, they’d had their trials. Screaming matches so great Eris was surprised the forest didn’t shake. But it was rare for them to disagree that strongly, and in the twenty years since they’d started ruling together the Autumn Court had flourished.  Every day, he was able to wake up to her face, and every day was better than the last. The other courts came to be more welcoming of him, and he even considered some of them not just his allies but also his friends.

He reflected on his life often and found the only moments worth mentioning were the ones with her.

He smiled to himself and eased himself out of bed at the sound of padding feet outside the room. He quickly dressed, not bothering to put on any weapons. He’d had them all stashed high and away, the whole castle had, and he couldn’t be bothered getting them.

He opened the heavy oak door and was met with the most precious sight.

Juliette had their baby in front of her, holding his hands so that he could walk on his own. It was something he had only just started doing, so he was still shaky but getting the hang of it. Juliette was also singing to him quietly, him making him giggle with glee.

At the sight of Eris appearing, his mate looked up and smiled broadly. “Look, honey, it’s Papa. Do you want to walk to him? I think you do,” she cooed to the babe, following it with the same sentence in her own language, one Eris was now fluent in.

At the sound of his footsteps, the baby looked up and gave him the most beautiful, toothless grin. Eris went to his knees and opened his arms wide, and all on his own – he was so talented – his baby boy walked over to him with his arms a mirror of his father’s. He wrapped his little, pudgy arms around Eris neck and hugged him while Eris peppered kisses to his red hair.

“You slept in more than usual today, are you feeling well?” Juliette came to kneel next to him, putting her hand on his forehead.

“Yes, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About you. About our life.”

She kissed him gently on his cheek, letting her lips linger. “It has been a very good one.” She looked at their son. “And it will only get better.”

She kissed both her boy’s heads and started singing again, making her way down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. Eris picked up his son and watched, as transfixed by her voice now as he had been that very first day.

When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned with a flick of her hair and raised an eyebrow. “Are you ever going to follow me, solider? Or just stand there gawking?”


End file.
